Gramercy (Many Thanks)- Part I in A Series of Conversations
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: A story of friendship and loyalty. Reepicheep and Edmund have a conversation regarding fear and expectations. Set during Dawn Treader. NOTE: Advanced Vocabulary (aka: very in character). Part I in a Series of Conversations. PLEASE REVIEW!


**Gracmercy (Many Thanks)**

**Part I in **

**_A Series of Conversations_**

* * *

Edmund stood on the boards of the deck, looking out to the sea thinking to himself: 'The horizon, I wonder where it ends?' This question, or at least a similar one, was also being thought in the mind of a particular rodent, who was, at the moment, walking towards a barrel of apples, about to inspect every single individual one for spoils.

Reepicheep scaled the barrel with ease as if he were born to do it and began his inspection, lifting each apple with his forepaws and turning it in revolutions.

"Well," the mouse said, finding an apple that was entirely black. 'this will never make a pie." He said and looked around for a suitable disposal place. He didn't want to chuck it over the rail into the sea because that immoral and made him appear rash or inconsiderate of nature, and the mouse was nothing of that sort. He also didn't want to place it back in the barrel, for fear of tarnishing the rest of the bunch and there was no basket near so that was out of the question too.

"Hmm," the mouse said to himself, thinking aloud, "if I were to dispose of a citrus how would I go about it?" He saw Edmund and smiled.

"Sire!" Reepicheep called. "I require some assistance if you could spare the moment." Edmund, who was through gazing and contemplating walked over.

"Need some help with something?" Edmund asked.

"Yes," the mouse answered, "I need to dispose of this apple, and was wondering if you could find a basket or container for me to put it in."

Edmund nodded and walked around the ship deck a bit in search of an empty barrel, basket, or something for Reepicheep to use, while the mouse simply put the spoiled fruit on the tip of his blade and continued his inspection.

Thirty minutes later, Edmund returned with a basket that was donated generously by Tavros who was using it to hold his medical supplies but figured that Reepicheep needed it more so gave it to him.

"Thank you for your service Your Majesty," Reepicheep said once Edmund returned. "I'll be happy to return the favor in due time."

"Actually Reepicheep," Edmund said, "there is something you can do for me."

"Oh, well," Reepicheep said, not expecting Edmund to take up his offer so quickly, "what do you need of me?"

"Console." Edmund said.

"Something causing you trouble?" The rodent asked.

"Out of the many things that I'm afraid of," Edmund continued on, "the one thing I fear the most is dying."

"We all at some point, ponder and suffer through the feeling Your Majesty, such is life- to end, it is never perennial the first go round." Reepicheep said.

"I have dreams about dying." Edmund replied, "Every night it's the same. I'm floating in water, on a piece of wood. It is barely able to support me, only my torso and head are out of the water. It's freezing, the water slowly turns to ice. My breath escapes me, I start to panic as I begin to go under. I'm pulled down by something, it grabs a hold of my leg and rips it clean off as if I were a doll made of straw. Blood fills the water as I slowly descend into darkness. I struggle to breathe. My heart and lungs explode simultaneously, I wake up after that."

"Seems to me that you have a grave fear of being an amputee." Reepicheep said with a laugh to himself and a slight smile, trying to find humor in a situation he knew was serious. He quickly followed with: "In all seriousness though, let me ask you a question. What _exactly_ are you afraid of specifically about death?"

"I guess dying too quickly." Edmund answered ironically quickly.

"That is a common fear," Reepicheep said, "a fear often a supervene to war. You have had many moments of disquietude and vacillation Your Majesty, an experience that most people never see until their more cultured years. Is it because of war and your time here that you fear something so unequivocal?"

"I guess so." Edmund answered. "But it doesn't change the fact that it's still there. I feel alone in this Reep, like I can't be understood because no one seems to understand that we may not make it out of this."

"Oh what a naive and apocryphal statement that is." Reepicheep replied. "You really believe that you are on that floating piece of wood don't you! Have you ever stopped to think that I am on that same plank, and that I myself am being ripped apart with you?"

"I thought you were supposed to be fearless." Edmund said.

Reepicheep sighed and shook his head, "Fearlessness is an impossibility sire," he said, "for if one claims to be fearless, then he is dispassionate and is very much like the ice that surrounds our wood plank."

"Are you saying that I'm afraid of being fearless?" Edmund asked.

"Not at all," Reepicheep said, "I'm saying that you're afraid of expectations that are quixotic. You have this idea in your head that you need to be this tower of unrelenting fearlessness when you don't. It is a product of fear- fear of the world and its view of you. You conform to other's opinion of yourself and perceive that to be your true self. It's not. You are simply looking through glass Your Majesty, glass that is telling you to be someone you're not."

"So, you're saying that I should think of myself the way I want to see me, instead of other people?"

Reepicheep nodded, "This beast of yours, the one that pulls you down, that I'm not sure of, but whatever it is, remember that I'm stuck on the wood plank too."

"Are you afraid of the same thing?" Edmund asked.

"In many ways yes," Reepicheep said, "I'm afraid of what my judgment will be when I see Him, I'm afraid that he will look upon me as unworthy or deem me defective. Muddle-headed of me I suppose to think and believe such things but I do."

"You shouldn't Reepicheep," Edmund said.

"Why?" Reepicheep asked.

"If you do then that's fear of castigation. That's the one thing you fear most, isn't it? You needn't fear that because castigation only happens to those who are full of delinquency. If you are full of that, then you are perhaps the greatest thespian in the world. But you're not because if you were we would've figured you out by now. You're too noble to be anything else but deserving of all praise and worthy of all honors."

Reepicheep smiled and said with a bow, "Gramercy."

"You're welcome."

"No sire, I said gramercy to you!" Reepicheep shouted again, "I am not worthy of it! Only those who are my cohorts receive the honor of gramercy." He lowered his voice back to normalcy, "I say it again, and again and again, gramercy. Your Majesty," he said in a voice filed with all the kindness and respectability in the world, "the highest honor I will ever accept from you is service."

Reepicheep turned and continued his business with the apples and Edmund returned to his watchful gaze of the sunrise.

"Reepicheep, what do you suppose about the horizon?"

Reepicheep smiled, "That Your Majesty," he said, "is an entirely different conversation. Would you like to begin it?"

"What do you suppose is at the horizon?" Edmund asked. "Not the end of the world or the other side, just the horizon. Do you think the world is different over there than it is here?"

"That depends on whether you believe the sun rises every morning and sets every morning." Reepicheep answered.

"Well, of course it does." Edmund said.

"You and I say that," Reepicheep replied, "but some people who are morbid and sinister believe that the sun is a reminder of their errors, of the malefactor tendencies they posses. They fear irrationally- just like you and me on our plank. We both fear things we should. So Your Majesty may I propose a question to you?"

"Of course." Edmund replied.

"Would you mind if I serve as your bulwark?" The mouse asked.

"Only if I can extend the same to you." Edmund said.

"Gramercy." Reepicheep repeated the same reply and motion and walked away, he was finished inspecting the apple barrel.

Edmund smiled, turned towards Reepicheep and said: "Gramercy."

Reepicheep turned back, smiled, and bowed with open arms, offering his services and eternal servitude.

* * *

_Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival._

_-C.S Lewis_


End file.
